Remembrance persecutes, and Hope betrays;
Heavy is woe;--and joy, for human-kind,
A mournful thing, so transient is the blaze!"
Thus might _he_ paint our lot of mortal days 5
Who wants the glorious faculty assigned
To elevate the more-than-reasoning Mind,
And colour life's dark cloud with orient rays.
Imagination is that sacred power,[AM]
Imagination lofty and refined: 10
'Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine flower
Of Faith, and round the Sufferer's temples bind
Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower,
And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote AM: Compare the distinction Wordsworth draws between Fancy and
Imagination in his "Preface" to the Poems published in 1815, and his
definition of the function of the Imagination in that essay.--ED.]
"HAIL, TWILIGHT, SOVEREIGN OF ONE PEACEFUL HOUR"
Published 1815
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
Hail, Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour!
Not dull art Thou as undiscerning Night;
But studious only to remove from sight
Day's mutable distinctions.--Ancient Power!
Thus did the waters gleam, the mountains lower, 5
To the rude Briton, when, in wolf-skin vest
Here roving wild, he laid him down to rest
On the bare rock, or through a leafy bower
Looked ere his eyes were closed. By him was seen
The self-same Vision which we now behold, 10
At thy meek bidding, shadowy Power! brought forth;
These mighty barriers, and the gulf between;
The flood,[75] the stars,--a spectacle as old
As the beginning of the heavens and earth!
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 75: 1837.
The floods,-- ... 1815.
]
"THE SHEPHERD, LOOKING EASTWARD, SOFTLY SAID"
Published 1815
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
The Shepherd, looking eastward, softly said,
"Bright is thy veil, O Moon, as thou art bright!"
Forthwith, that little cloud, in ether spread
And penetrated all with tender light,
She cast away, and showed her fulgent head 5
Uncovered; dazzling the Beholder's sight
As if to vindicate her beauty's right,
Her beauty thoughtlessly disparagèd.
Meanwhile that veil, removed or thrown aside,
Went floating from her, darkening as it went; 10
And a huge mass, to bury or to hide,
Approached this glory of the firmament;
Who meekly yields, and is obscured--content
With one calm triumph of a modest pride.
"EVEN AS A DRAGON'S EYE THAT FEELS THE STRESS"
Published 1815
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
Even as a dragon's eye that feels the stress
Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp
Suddenly[76] glaring through sepulchral damp,
So burns yon Taper 'mid a[77] black recess
Of mountains, silent, dreary, motionless: 5
The lake below reflects it not; the sky
Muffled in clouds, affords no company
To mitigate and cheer its loneliness.
Yet, round the body of that joyless Thing
Which sends so far its melancholy light, 10
Perhaps are seated in domestic ring
A gay society with faces bright,
Conversing, reading, laughing;--or they sing,
While hearts and voices in the song unite.
The light of the "Taper" referred to shone from Allan Bank; the "black
recess of mountains" described the heights of Silver Howe, and Easdale,
round to Helm Crag; the "lake below," which "reflected it not" (because
of the distance of Allan Bank from the side of the mere), was, of
course, Grasmere. Wordsworth is looking at this "lamp suddenly glaring
through sepulchral damp," however, from the eastern side of the lake,
perhaps from the neighbourhood of "The Wishing Gate." I am indebted to
the Rev. W. A. Harrison, Vicar of St. Anne's, Lambeth, for the following
note to this sonnet:--
'In the Sonnet No. xxiv., 'Poems of the Imagination,' [_i.e._
'Miscellaneous Sonnets'] these lines occur:--
Even as a dragon's eye that feels the stress
Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp
Suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp,
So burns yon Taper 'mid a black recess
Of mountains, silent, dreary, motionless:
etc. etc. etc.
"In line 3, all the later editions read 'Suddenly glaring.' But why
'suddenly'? There is nothing in the imagery of the poem which is at all
suggestive of suddenness or unexpectedness in the appearance of the
burning taper. The idea is alien from the spirit of the context. The
dragon is drowsy and overborne with sleep. The taper is 'dreary' and
'motionless.' Everything is suggestive of 'sluggish stillness,' not of
rapid, flashing movement.
"Yet I find the reading '_suddenly_' in the one vol. ed. of 1828, which
is said to be a reprint of the edition of 1827 in 5 vols.; in that of
1836-7; in that of 1840; and in all the later editions.
"In the edition of 1815, however, the reading given is one that is in
strict keeping with the rest of the imagery, namely--
'_Sullenly_ glaring.'
"Is it likely that 'sullenly' was deliberately altered by Wordsworth to
'suddenly,' or is 'suddenly' a misprint that has been perpetuated
through successive editions?
"The sonnet in question is not dated, but it was probably written after
1807 and before 1815.
"Now, in a well-known and often-quoted passage in Wordsworth's letter in
answer to Mathetes (_Friend_, vol. iii. 35, etc.), he speaks of the
'_sullen_ light' which survives the extinguished flame of the candle
that the schoolboy has blown out. 'It continues,' he says, 'to shine
with an endurance which in its apparent weakness is a mystery; it
protracts its existence so long ... that the observer who had lain down
in his bed so easy-minded, becomes sad and melancholy,' etc. etc. etc.
"In the sonnet the same ideas occur, only the 'melancholy' is here
predicated figuratively of the 'light' itself:--
the sky,
Muffled in clouds, affords no company
To mitigate and cheer its loneliness.
Yet, round the body of that joyless Thing
Which sends so far its melancholy light,
Perhaps are seated, etc. etc.
"This paper in _The Friend_ was written in 1810; and it is possible that
the sonnet was written at about the same time.--W. A. HARRISON."--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 76: 1827.
Sullenly ... 1815.
]
[Footnote 77: 1827.
... 'mid its ... 1815.
]
"MARK THE CONCENTRED HAZELS THAT ENCLOSE"
Published 1815
[Suggested in the wild hazel wood at the foot of Helm-crag, where the
stone still lies, with others of like form and character, though much of
the wood that veiled it from the glare of day has been felled. This
beautiful ground was lately purchased by our friend Mrs. Fletcher; the
ancient owners, most respected persons, being obliged to part with it in
consequence of the imprudence of a son. It is gratifying to mention
that, instead of murmuring and repining at this change of fortune, they
offered their services to Mrs. Fletcher, the husband as an outdoor
labourer, and the wife as a domestic servant. I have witnessed the pride
and pleasure with which the man worked at improvements of the ground
round the house. Indeed he expressed those feelings to me himself, and
the countenance and manner of his wife always denoted feelings of the
same character. I believe a similar disposition to contentment under
change of fortune is common among the class to which these good people
belong. Yet, in proof that to part with their patrimony is most painful
to them, I may refer to those stanzas entitled _Repentance_, no
inconsiderable part of which was taken verbatim from the language of the
speaker herself.--I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
Mark the concentred hazels that enclose
Yon old grey Stone, protected from the ray
Of noontide suns:--and even the beams that play
And glance, while wantonly the rough wind blows,
Are seldom free to touch the moss that grows 5
Upon that roof, amid embowering gloom,
The very image framing of a Tomb,
In which some ancient Chieftain finds repose
Among the lonely mountains.--Live, ye trees!
And thou, grey Stone, the pensive likeness keep 10
Of a dark chamber where the Mighty sleep:
For more than Fancy to the influence bends
When solitary Nature condescends
To mimic Time's forlorn humanities.
This "old grey Stone" is a prominent feature in the Lancrigg
Terrace-Walk. It is still moss-grown, and embowered by the hazel
underwood. Not far from it, the path opens to the spot where the most of
_The Prelude_ was composed; first hummed aloud--as the poet walked to
and fro along the terrace--and then dictated to his wife or sister. See
Lady Richardson's account of this, in her article in _Sharpe's London
Magazine_, in 1851, and in the _Autobiography of Mrs. Fletcher_ (her
mother), p. 244; also her contributions to the _Memoirs of Wordsworth_,
vol. ii. p. 438, etc.--ED.
"SURPRISED BY JOY--IMPATIENT AS THE WIND"
Published 1815
[This was in fact suggested by my daughter Catherine long after her
death.[AN]--I. F.]
One of the "Miscellaneous Sonnets."--ED.
Surprised by joy--impatient as the Wind
I turned[78] to share the transport--Oh! with whom
But Thee, deep buried [79] in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind-- 5
But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss?--That thought's return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, 10
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
Compare the poem entitled _Characteristics of a Child three years old_
(vol. iv. p. 252), written in 1811, and which referred, like this one,
to the poet's daughter Catherine, who died the year after. Compare also
_The Excursion_, book iii. ll. 636-649, and the sonnet beginning,
"Desponding Father! mark this altered bough," 1835.--ED.
VARIANTS:
[Footnote 78: 1820.
I wished ... 1815.
]
[Footnote 79: 1820.
... long buried ... 1815.
]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote AN: Wordsworth's daughter, Catherine, was born on the 6th
September 1808, and died 4th June 1812.--ED.]
1816
Most of the poems belonging to 1816 were suggested by the stirring
political events of that year on the Continent of Europe. Four odes, and
a number of sonnets,--referring to the Fall of Napoleon, the French army
in Russia, the battle of Waterloo, etc.,--a translation of part of
Virgil's _Æneid_, and one or two smaller fragments, make up the series.
Wordsworth had not been so much inspired by the political events of his
time, since the years 1809 and 1810--when he wrote the Tyrolese Sonnets,
and others, "Dedicated to Liberty," etc.--but, both before and during
the year 1816, he spent some time in preparing his eldest son for the
University. He read the Latin poets with him; and very probably it was
this that led him to translate into English verse, the three first books
of the _Æneid_, which he did at this time. Some fragments of his
Translations will be found in the Appendix to vol. viii.--ED.
ODE
THE MORNING OF THE DAY APPOINTED FOR A GENERAL THANKSGIVING. JANUARY 18,
1816
Composed 1816.--Published 1816.
[The first stanza of this _Ode_ was composed almost extempore, in front
of Rydal Mount, before church-time, and on such a morning and precisely
with such objects before my eyes as are here described. The view taken
of Napoleon's character and proceedings is little in accordance with
that taken by some historians and critical philosophers. I am glad and
proud of the difference, and trust that this series of poems, infinitely
below the subject as they are, will survive to counteract, in
unsophisticated minds, the pernicious and degrading tendency of those
views and doctrines that lead to the idolatry of power, as power, and,
in that false splendour, to lose sight of its real nature and
constitution as it often acts for the gratification of its possessor
without reference to a beneficial end--an infirmity that has
characterised men of all ages, classes, and employments, since Nimrod
became a mighty hunter before the Lord.--I. F.]
"It is not to bespeak favour or indulgence, but to guard against
misapprehension, that the author presumes to state that the present
publication owes its existence to a patriotism, anxious to exert itself
in commemorating that course of action, by which Great Britain has, for
some time past, distinguished herself above all other countries.
"Wholly unworthy of touching upon so momentous a subject would that Poet
be, before whose eyes the present distresses under which this kingdom
labours, could interpose a veil sufficiently thick to hide, or even to
obscure, the splendour of this great moral triumph. If the author has
given way to exultation, unchecked by these distresses, it might be
sufficient to protect him from a charge of insensibility, should he
state his own belief that these sufferings will be transitory. On the
wisdom of a very large majority of the British nation, rested that
generosity which poured out the treasures of this country for the
deliverance of Europe: and in the same national wisdom, presiding in
time of peace over an energy not inferior to that which has been
displayed in war, _they_ confide, who encourage a firm hope, that the
cup of our wealth will be gradually replenished. There will, doubtless,
be no few ready to indulge in regrets and repinings; and to feed a
morbid satisfaction, by aggravating these burthens in imagination, in
order that calamity so confidently prophesied, as it has not taken the
shape which their sagacity allotted to it, may appear as grievous as
possible under another. But the body of the nation will not quarrel with
the gain, because it might have been purchased at a less price: and
acknowledging in these sufferings, which they feel to have been in a
great degree unavoidable, a consecration of their noble efforts, they
will vigorously apply themselves to remedy the evil.
"Nor is it at the expense of rational patriotism, or in disregard of
sound philosophy, that the author hath given vent to feelings tending to
encourage a martial spirit in the bosoms of his countrymen, at a time
when there is a general outcry against the prevalence of these
dispositions. The British army, both by its skill and valour in the
field, and by the discipline which has rendered it much less formidable
than the armies of other powers, to the inhabitants of the several
countries where its operations were carried on, has performed services
for humanity too important and too obvious to allow any one to
recommend, that the language of gratitude and admiration be suppressed,
or restrained (whatever be the temper of the public mind), through a
scrupulous dread, lest the tribute due to the past, should prove an
injurious incentive for the future. Every man, deserving the name of
Briton, adds his voice to the chorus which extols the exploits of his
countrymen, with a consciousness, at times overpowering the effort, that
they transcend all praise. But this particular sentiment, thus
irresistibly excited, is not sufficient. The nation would err
grievously, if she suffered the abuse which other states have made of
military power, to prevent her from perceiving that no people ever was,
or can be, independent, free, or secure, much less great, in any sane
application of the word, without martial propensities, and an assiduous
cultivation of military virtues[AO]. Nor let it be overlooked, that the
benefits derivable from these sources, are placed within the reach of
Great Britain, under conditions peculiarly favourable. The same insular
position which, by rendering territorial incorporation impossible,
utterly precludes the desire of conquest under the most seductive shape
it can assume, enables her to rely, for her defence against foreign
foes, chiefly upon a species of armed force from which her own liberties
have nothing to fear. Such are the blessed privileges of her situation;
and, by permitting, they invite her to give way to the courageous
instincts of human nature, and to strengthen and to refine them by
culture.
"But some have more than insinuated, that a design exists to subvert the
civil character of the English people by unconstitutional applications
and unnecessary increase of military power. The advisers and abettors of
such a design, were it possible that it should exist, would be guilty of
the most heinous crime, which, upon this planet, can be committed. The
author, trusting that this apprehension arises from the delusive
influences of an honourable jealousy, hopes that the martial qualities,
which he venerates, will be fostered by adhering to those good old
usages which experience has sanctioned; and by availing ourselves of new
means of indisputable promise; particularly by applying, in its utmost
possible extent, that system of tuition, of which the master-spring is a
habit of gradually enlightened subordination; by imparting knowledge,
civil, moral, and religious, in such measure that the mind, among all
classes of the community, may love, admire, and be prepared and
accomplished to defend that country, under whose protection its
faculties have been unfolded, and its riches acquired; by just dealing
towards all orders of the state, so that no members of it being trampled
upon, courage may everywhere continue to rest immoveably upon its
ancient English foundation, personal self-respect; by adequate rewards,
and permanent honours, conferred upon the deserving; by encouraging
athletic exercises and manly sports among the peasantry of the country;
and by especial care to provide and support sufficient institutions, in
which, during a time of peace, a reasonable proportion of the youth of
the country may be instructed in military science.
"Bent upon instant savings, a member of the House of Commons lately
recommended that the Military College should be suppressed as an
unnecessary expense; for, said he, 'our best officers have been formed
in the field.' More unwise advice has rarely been given! Admirable
officers, indeed, have been formed in the field, but at how deplorable
an expense of the lives of their surrounding brethren in arms, a history
of the military operations in Spain, and particularly of the sieges,
composed with thorough knowledge, and published without reserve, would
irresistibly demonstrate.[AP]
"The author has only to add that he should feel little satisfaction in
giving to the world these limited attempts to celebrate the virtues of
his country, if he did not encourage a hope that a subject, which it has
fallen within his province to treat only in the mass, will by other
poets be illustrated in that detail which its importance calls for, and
which will allow opportunities to give the merited applause to PERSONS
as well as to THINGS."
W. WORDSWORTH.
"RYDAL MOUNT, _March_ 18, 1816."[AQ]
This _Ode_ was originally published--along with the three that follow
it, and some sonnets--in 1816, under the title, _Thanksgiving Ode,
January 18, 1816, with other short pieces, chiefly referring to recent
public events_, and with the prefatory announcement: "This Publication
may be considered as a sequel to the Author's 'Sonnets dedicated to
Liberty.'" To the whole there was prefixed an "Advertisement," beginning
as at p. 75, "It is not," etc., and continuing to "W. Wordsworth," p.
77.--ED.
I
Hail, orient Conqueror of gloomy Night![80]
Thou that canst shed the bliss of gratitude
On hearts howe'er insensible or rude;
Whether thy punctual[81] visitations smite
The haughty towers where monarchs dwell; 5
Or thou, impartial Sun, with presence bright
Cheer'st the low threshold of the peasant's cell!
Not unrejoiced I see thee climb the sky
In naked splendour, clear from mist or haze,
Or cloud approaching to divert the rays, 10
Which even in deepest winter testify
Thy power and majesty,
Dazzling the vision that presumes to gaze.
--Well does thine aspect usher in this Day;
As aptly suits therewith that modest pace 15
Submitted to the chains[82]
That bind thee to the path which God ordains
That thou shall trace,
Till, with the heavens and earth, thou pass away!
Nor less, the stillness of these frosty plains, 20
Their utter stillness, and the silent grace
Of yon ethereal summits white with snow,[AR]
(Whose tranquil pomp and spotless purity
Report of storms gone by
To us who tread below) 25
Do with the service of this Day accord.
--Divinest Object which the uplifted eye
Of mortal man is suffered to behold;
Thou, who upon those[83] snow-clad Heights hast poured
Meek lustre,[84] nor forget'st the humble Vale; 30
Thou who dost warm Earth's universal mould,
And for thy bounty wert not unadored
By pious men of old;
Once more, heart-cheering Sun, I bid thee hail!
Bright be thy course to-day, let not this promise fail!
II
'Mid the deep quiet of this morning hour, 36
All nature seems to hear me while I speak,
By feelings urged that do not vainly seek
Apt language, ready as the tuneful notes
That stream in blithe succession from the throats 40
Of birds, in leafy bower,
Warbling a farewell to a vernal shower.
--There is a radiant though[85] a short-lived flame,
That burns for Poets in the dawning east;
And oft my soul hath kindled at the same, 45
When the captivity of sleep had ceased;
But He who fixed immoveably the frame
Of the round world, and built, by laws as strong,
A solid refuge for distress--
The towers of righteousness; 50
He knows that from a holier altar came
The quickening spark of this day's sacrifice;
Knows that the source is nobler whence doth rise
The current of this matin song;
That deeper far it lies 55
Than aught dependent on the fickle skies.
III
Have we not conquered?--by the vengeful sword?
Ah no, by dint of Magnanimity;
That curbed the baser passions, and left free
A loyal band to follow their liege Lord, 60
Clear-sighted Honour, and his staid Compeers,
Along a track of most unnatural years;[AS]
In execution of heroic deeds
Whose memory, spotless as the crystal beads
Of morning dew upon the untrodden meads, 65
Shall live enrolled above the starry spheres.
He, who in concert with an earthly string[86]
Of Britain's acts would sing,
He with enraptured voice will tell
Of One whose spirit no reverse could quell; 70
Of One that 'mid the failing never failed[AT]--
Who paints how Britain struggled and prevailed
Shall represent her labouring with an eye
Of circumspect humanity;
Shall show her clothed with strength and skill, 75
All martial duties to fulfil;
Firm as a rock in stationary fight;
In motion rapid as the lightning's gleam;
Fierce as a flood-gate bursting at mid night[87]
To rouse the wicked from their giddy dream-- 80
Woe, woe to all that face her in the field!
Appalled she may not be, and cannot yield.
IV
And thus is _missed_[88] the sole true glory
That can belong to human story!
At which they[89] only shall arrive 85
Who through the abyss of weakness dive.
The very humblest are too proud of heart;
And one brief day is rightly set apart
For Him[90] who lifteth up and layeth low;
For that Almighty God to whom we owe, 90
Say not that we have vanquished--but that we survive.
V
How dreadful the dominion of the impure!
Why should the Song be tardy to proclaim
That less than power unbounded[91] could not tame
That soul of Evil--which, from hell let loose, 95
Had filled the astonished world with such abuse
As boundless patience only could endure?
--Wide-wasted regions--cities wrapt in flame--
Who sees,[92] may lift a streaming eye
To Heaven;--who never saw, may heave a sigh;
But the foundation of our nature shakes, 101
And with an infinite pain the spirit aches,
When desolated countries, towns on fire,
Are but the avowed attire
Of warfare waged with desperate mind 105
Against the life of virtue in mankind;[AU]
Assaulting without ruth
The citadels of truth;
While the fair gardens of civility,
By ignorance defaced, 110
By violence laid waste,
Perish without reprieve for flower or tree![93]
VI
A crouching purpose--a distracted will--
Opposed to hopes that battened upon scorn,
And to desires whose ever-waxing horn 115
Not all the light of earthly power could fill;
Opposed to dark, deep plots of patient skill,
And to[94] celerities of lawless force;
Which, spurning God, had flung away remorse--
What could they gain but shadows of redress? 120
--So bad proceeded propagating worse;
And discipline was passion's dire excess.[AV]
Widens the fatal web, its lines extend,
And deadlier poisons in the chalice blend.
When will your trials teach you to be wise? 125
--O prostrate Lands, consult your agonies!
VII